#breakingbridges

[cheesehound]

lady practice i did last week

oz @buttart aya @breakingbridges baen @baenling 

[teebster]

Groak :yc

 groak  —   to   stare   longingly   at   someone   who   is   eating   in   the   hope   that   they   will   ask   you   to   join   them

[[Read More for long post, general confusion, slight horror, wounds/blood/gore, etc. Teebs Things]]

A dream. The sleeping thought. The subconscious. Our hidden truths, resting behind the walls in our own minds. The way we shape our worlds, together, alone. Perspective. Reality. A dream.

Rains and local terrors had brought the brave, the scared, and the desperate to the local tavern. The feint echoing chorus of chattering voices filled the air. A constant static, whispered gossip, the buzz of alcohol tickling cheeks and conversations alike. Or it was safe to likely assume, as they cared not for the chatter, refusing to focus on any of it, and thus no words were shaped. Mouths moved across the room, indistinct faces producing the sounds of humanity with a subtle mixture of insects humming. Crickets, a few confused cicadas, the looming presence of night attempting to creep in. A deafening silence, as the room turned upon them, staring. Each face blank, features, clothes, heights, gender, all were lost, but the collective thought, the single question ringing from them all. “But where were you?”

A blink. The room corrected itself, the static of shared drinks and meals resuming. An odd familiarity restored. They knew this place, they knew sounds of wooden chairs and stools dragging on the floor, of mugs clunking against each other or tabletops, the warmth of a fire in the corner meant to help with the cold of the rains and night, to light a path for the fearful. The slight smell of coffee wafting from the mug clutched in their hands, fingers gently tapping against the side of it. But where were they? They were sitting at a table, against the wall, close enough to the fire to hear it, but more importantly, where they could see the door, and the bar. No, not the bar in particular, but the entry to the kitchen. The coming and going of staff, and orders. They had been there for awhile, the weight of time hanging loosely in the back of their mind in the way that it might in dreams. The moment only feeling as if a minute, but the certain knowledge that it had been long enough for the warmth of their coffee to have long faded, and that while they weren’t likely to be chased off, they were on the boarder of an overstayed welcome. Anxious finger tapping. Had it always been a habit? Or did it simply fit their mood? The consideration slowly pulled at their eyes. Staring down into the mug, the reflection of all too known eyes. The white glow piercing and unnaturally still atop the surface of the fluid. Known but alien. The chirping of crickets creeped into the room again, an almost painfully loud cacophony as it pressed in closer and overwhelmed. A ripple of movement hit the coffee, the reflection of their eyes shimmering against the liquid, distorting til it looked as if the night sky full of stars had poured into the mug instead. Somehow, it felt more natural than seeing their own eyes. The whole room pressed its attention to them again. The cries of false insect chatter vibrating directly against their horns ears before the silence consumed them. “False. Why were you?”

Another blink. A soft reset. The reflection in their coffee now showed eyes of soft gold before quickly tearing away at the sound of foot steps. Plates of food were being taken to a larger table nearby. Hunters. It was the only term that truly came to mind when gazing on the collection of individuals, armor and weapons scattered about them to mark them as such. The scent of seared meat, of fresh bread, of grilled vegetables, all drifted towards them. Or perhaps a trick of the mind, the concept of food enough to imagine it, to remind them of a hunger burning in their stomach. As they stared out, they remembered having collected coin through pity, not enough for lodging, not enough for a meal. The itch of recollection continued to pull at them, that they were tired and wary, that the scraps of bread they had managed to get with their mug of coffee didn’t even make an effort to hold them over, but instead teased their hunger. Deep consideration blocked out most other thoughts as they began to salivate staring at the other table’s plates of food. They knew they could not simply ask for any of it, and to ask to join the cause of hunters would either get them laughed at or worse accepted for a cause that would surely be their end. It was odd to have a fear of death writhe inside their mind. As odd as it was also natural to feel their hunger in their stomach, acid clawing away from within. It ate away at them. There was always a fear of being lead by their hunger, and the consequences it might bring. Their vision of the room dimmed, the movement and chatter of the room halting all together. Grey, dimmed, paused, all hung heavy. Yet they couldn’t stop moving their gaze to what they had known to be the plate of bread crumbs that remained on their table. Instead they were met with meat. Flesh and bone. The face of a man, eyes clawed out, mouth agape in pure horror. Partly plucked for sustenance, partly crushed. Red poured out, bones exposed and piercing into what remained of their innards. It would not appease their hunger, but part of them still wanted to reach for it. Their hands felt wet. The rest of the room faded, the sight of an all consuming void focusing on them. “Later. What were you?”

Another blink. A soft reset. A gentle skip. Their focus was still held by the plates of food presented to the table of hunters, even as they began to dig in. They couldn’t recall the last time they had had a full meal. Hunger and fear lead them to a conclusion, and a decision. There was no point in staring at food they would not be invited to eat, but perhaps, if they were to excuse themself and stumble through, they could trip and misplaced hands could knock the food upon the floor. While it was likely to get them a kick, at least they would have more than bread. As they found their resolution and stood up, a hand found their shoulder. The first face that had any features to it, yet it was like staring through frosted glass. Their mind didn’t want to hold them together. He was tall, and they felt warmth from him, but perhaps that was the golden nature of his skin and smile. Dark hair, loose. Muddled, dark eyes that theirs couldn’t seem to meet. “Careful now. You don’t want what they have.” His voice poured out, and it soothed and ached them like stumbling on a lost treasure. The kind that hurts, but you can’t help but never replace. “If I can see it from the look in your eyes, it won’t be a convincing show. But why don’t you sit at my table, reconsider it with a bowl of stew?” They opened their mouth, knowing words had come out, but all was ash on their tongue. Tasteless, empty, burnt and spent. The shape of their mouth was wrong, the way their tongue rolled with the words was foreign. But the man seemed pleased with whatever answer had escaped them. “What’s your name friend? So I can introduce you to the table.” And again, they opened their mouth, knowing words were meant to come out. An old exchange lost to time and their mind. As their mouth opened, it opened wide, their skin cracking open. Light, pure and brilliant, cold and empty. Skin flaked off, and the light continued to burst its way out of them, filling the room with blinding white. It streamed from their eyes, and pooled from their mouth, it burned off their flesh. They felt bones forming, rippling against their back as they tried to pierce their way out.  And just as the room had filled with their light, just as they felt their skin would give to this new form entirely, they felt the hand on their shoulder tightened, and the sharp pain of a knife thrust into their chest pierced through it all. They looked down, shock and confusion, silence clinging to the pair. The new found wound dripped with pitch, with ichor, with shadows and void. All they could do was stare as the light gave way to darkness.

And as Terbish woke up, tears welling slightly in their eyes, the taste of a twisted dream, the clutching of a fading memory lingering in their mouth, a soft question escaped them: “Who were you?”

[latikaa-renaz]

∞ i give a squiggle for Helios

If I Think They Are: Ugly || Plain || Alright || Cute || Freaking Adorable || Pretty || Beautiful || Hot || Stunning

“I love to call Helios handsome to his face, he flips out! Especially if his dumb mask was already off... That being said, in reality he doesn’t have striking features or anything unique... and he’s mauled let’s be real. I still think he’s dazzling, it’s in his hidden smiles and the way I can sometimes get that soft look in his eyes. Also, when you’re used to his insanity, the outlandish reactions are so cute... Kind of like Doreen and her excitement over anything shiny or suddenly existing in her viewpoint.”

If I Would Go On A Date With Them: Not even if we were the last two one earth || No || Maybe || Eh….Sure || Yes || WILL YOU MARRY ME

“Absolutely? We basically do that often enough anyway, just spending time with each other as we do whatever occupies our individual attentions. I’d love to do that more, he’s one of the few I can stand to have in my workspaces let alone touching things in them.” 

If I Trust Them: Not At All || Not Really || Kind of || Yes || With My Life

“We have an understanding, to say the least. I’ve come to understand... understand that for good and bad we’re similar men. To which... I’m not going to dig where I’m not wanted, nor will he. Not till a miracle occurs and we’re ready on our own, or disaster hits that forces it. I’m not nearly as allergic to the idea of it as he, but it’s not an easy thing to come to terms with.”

If I Care About Them: Not At All || Not Really || Kind of || Yes || Deeply

“If you’d asked me a few moons ago, I would have laughed and said not really. Then I was haunted by the weirdest shit for him, and ended up really attached, so. Yeah, I care deeply and a tad bit obsessively about him. In a good way! A healthy ‘I cannot trust this kuponut brained moron to exist so I must help’ way. We’re too similar in the worst of ways... at least for him I know how to soothe some of his hurts.”

If I Would Sleep With Them: Not Enough Alcohol in the World || No || Maybe if I were wasted || Maybe || Eh…Sure || Yes || TAKE YOUR CLOTHES OFF NOW!

There’s a moment where Latika’a leans in slowly, keeping eye contact. “He has escaped me once, and I respect his space and deep traumas. The minute I can tell that despite his self-esteem which lies lower in the ground than the graves he digs with his words... if has the interest again, though? I will have that ass. Like, not in a creepy way, but if you meet my boyfriend and look at Helios, you’ll see some things in common for my Type. I will be so patient. Eh, creepiness aside... if he genuinely doesn’t ever want to, I think I’m alright with that. The only time it’s come up was- it was a bad time for him, and I don’t regret being the responsible one in the least. I adore him no matter what he can or can’t give me. Aside from cake, I expect cake. And cuddles, if he stops those I will riot.”

My Comfort Level With Your Muse: Keep a Distance || Okay You Can Stand There, But Don’t Touch Me || Let’s Get Coffee and Talk || Let’s Cuddle || I Can Change In Front of You || Let’s Take a Bath Together

“I don’t think this needs words. Have you seen me near him? All of Ishgard now knows I’m a cuddleslut with this man. Quite literally, not even the frigid hearts and wastelands of Coerthas stopped me from getting some quality cuddling when we both ended up there. Besides, I’ve changed and bathed him by now no matter how it was in a medical setting! I’d that’s pretty comfortable!”

If I See You As: A Stranger || An Acquaintance || A Friend || A Close Friend || My Best Friend || A Crush || The Love of My Life

“He~li~os~ ❤!” Hands coming up to squish at his own cheeks childishly. “You don’t get driven to the brink of insanity and rescue a man from a dimensional rift and not end up some kind of really close friend. Probably. We ended up that way, anyway. I will never let him escape the grasp of friendship now.”

[thegildedgun]

If you receive this, you make someone happy. Go on anonymous and send it to 10 of your followers who make you happy. If you get some back, even better! Have a lovely day 💕💕💕

Hey nerd you forgot to go anon. 

edit: (♥)

[saahsffxiv]

A package is dropped off near wherever Ghostie is sleeping. It's wrapped like a normal parcel, tied with twine with a note tied to it: 'HAPPY STARLIGHT, GHOSTUMS.' Inside would be a big bag of sugar cookies, colorfully decorated with icing and shaped like different Eorzean creatures--Moogle, Chocobos, Spriggans, and Krakuls.

Saying he was wary of packages that weren’t there before he’d drifted off to sleep. Saying that he didn’t at first briskly crabwalk away from the package would have been a shameful lie. It was left completely untouched for several minutes, with only the harsh glower of two suspicious eyes to give it company. And after those many minutes, it was met with a spare few pokes and prods ever few more minutes.

It wasn’t until about three bells later, than Ghost deemed the package generally non-lethal. And finally had a look at the note attached to it.

Now, there was only one person that called him “Ghostums”. Or “Ghostie”, or any other variation of his main alias. Ignoring the mild feeling of foolishness, he set about to peeling the parcel open with delicate fingers. He recalled his bosom friend detailing a plethora of things he was planning to give everyone for Starlight (some cookies and grenades was indeed a plethora)-- but had submitted to dismissing those words after that particular conversation’s... turn of events.

But there he was, sitting on the docks of Limsa Lominsa, with a bag in his lap filled with cookies lovingly sent by his best friend.

The first thing he did with that bag of cookies was to hug it tight to his chest. Eating them almost felt cruel, to destroy these precious little cookies his friend had not only made or gotten specifically for him, but had to find him at all to even present them to him. But ate one he did, and then he ate the rest. Usually nothing was left after but a minute; this time was different. It took a couple minutes instead.

Thank you, @breakingbridges ! Hope you had a merr chrimmus!! <3

[eldanseeker]

❤️ Do they fall in love easily?

No. Physical attraction surfaces first for Seeker, way before any emotional attachment, and usually he’ll stop it right then and there before things get complicated. Unconsciously or not, he’s spent a lot of his life simply not allowing himself to fall in love. So Sudden Farid™ was a very unexpected relationship for him. I put it better in a previous blog:“Somehow, he’s managed to slip right past my defenses without even trying. He hasn’t pressured me, he hasn’t questioned me, and yet with him I find myself being open. Maybe that’s it. I’m so used to holding my ground against an onslaught, defending myself from people, that when someone simply stands outside and waits… I can’t refuse.”

[isoldegreyffxiv]

👠- What kind of shoes do they prefer to wear?

One might think that having a hundred pairs of shoes to pick from would make it a simple matter, but au contraire - there stood Isolde in front of it with her hands spread at her sides, completely at a loss. The rest of the outfit had been decided on; a glittering silver gown with a slit along her thigh, a grey fur stole, with diamonds to drip from her ears and neck. But the shoes…

Of course. What was she thinking? Simplicity to offset the sparkle. 

She reached down and grabbed her favorite old standby - a pair of five inch black stilettos, with red beneath. As uncomfortable as most people found towering heels, she wore them with pride. Not only did they make her taller, she had mastered the art of walking gracefully in them. A ballet star was no stranger to uncomfortable shoes. A pair of stilettos after spending hours en pointe in ballet slippers was not an ideal transition, but she could suffer through it. Looking good, after all, came before feeling good. 

(( for the g l a m o  u r THANK U @breakingbridges ))

[khaliasama]

breakingbridges

  ffxiv is a great game because it has a npc in it...

he is an excellent elf, a beautiful boy

A PERFECT BOY i cry every time i think about him